


The Worst Surprise Party of All Time

by felloffabalcony (mandraco)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bonding, Derek has some failwolf tendencies, M/M, Matchmaking, Mating, Rimming, Top!Stiles, also he makes this sauce that looks like come, bottom!Derek, so guess what Stiles does with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandraco/pseuds/felloffabalcony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His entire life, Stiles had waited for his eighteenth birthday and the opportunity to visit the Matemaker to see if he was one of the lucky few destined to be bonded to a werewolf. He hadn't expected the entire trip to be a waste of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Surprise Party of All Time

**Author's Note:**

> This somehow came about while I was reading something else and wondering why they didn't call it matemaking instead of matchmaking. (The fic in question did not have any mates and hardly any matchmaking so I don't really know why that's what I was thinking.)
> 
> I didn't want to tag this as "under-negotiated kink" but it kind of is. I'm going to counter that by saying, um, they're mates, and apparently in this world that means you're one hundred percent sexually compatible… (and not much else, actually.)

Stiles couldn't help almost bouncing out of his skin as he waited outside the Matemaker's office. It was his eighteenth birthday at last. The day Stiles had been waiting for his entire life. The day Stiles would discover if he was destined to be a werewolf's mate, and who that werewolf would be.

 

Stiles' eighteenth birthday fell on a Friday and no matter how much Stiles had begged his father to let him have the day off school to visit the Matemaker first thing in the morning, the Sheriff had refused. By the time Stiles had given up on trying to convince his father, it was already too late to book the first slot after school and Stiles was left with the last. He'd had nothing to do but wait for the last four hours watching teen after teen discover their destiny.

 

In the circumstances, Stiles could have been filled with a nauseating fear but Stiles felt nothing more than nervous anticipation. The possibility of being told he wasn't good enough to be a werewolf's mate hadn't crossed his mind for more than an instant. He only feared that after having to wait for so long to see the Matemaker, that he would be told he would have to wait another decade before he could meet his mate.

 

Scott sat beside him in the waiting room, texting Allison. As a wolf with a mate for the past year (despite not turning eighteen for another month to Stiles' never ending jealousy) he had no worries at all and had failed to understand why Stiles found the whole thing so important. Stiles had trouble explaining to him how lucky he was to be guaranteed a mate. Scott didn't understand because his parents were matemade and still, his father had chosen to leave them. And Stiles' human and therefore not matemade parents had loved and belonged to each other as long as they could.

 

Scott's parents proved that a matebond wasn't a guarantee of a happy ending. Stiles remembered being endlessly confused by their divorce. So much so that Melissa had sat him down one day to explain it to him. She and Scott's father loved each other, yes, but it wasn't a healthy love, the kind that made them better for each other. Instead, their love had torn them apart, changing them into people who couldn't be together. She became clingy and codependent and he became a self-loathing creature so certain he could never deserve her that he no longer tried. They were better off loving each other from afar and if nothing else, the matebond had given them Scott, and how could they have hoped for more love than that?

 

It didn't deter Stiles, knowing that the matebond might not be a forever love the way the after school specials on pre-mating sex all claimed. It was something of a need for Stiles. Stiles was certain that if he could have this one thing, his life would have some meaning. He could give someone his love and then he could find his purpose. And if he secretly still longed for that fairytale ending it was no one's business but his own.

 

The door to the office opened and a girl Stiles didn't know stepped back out, not making eye contact with anyone as she left the building.

 

"What is that? An S or a B? Bilinski? Next!" the Matemaker called from inside the room.

 

"Good luck, man," said Scott, clapping Stiles' shoulder.

 

"Thanks," said Stiles. But he didn't think he needed it.

 

The Matemaker was sitting behind a desk with nothing on it save a tablet he was squinting at.

 

"How do you pronounce that? Grrzegg--?"

 

"You can call me Stiles," he said before the Matemaker could butcher his name further.

 

"Your parents must not have wanted you." The Matemaker looked up from his tablet and Stiles saw his wide eyes for the first time. He looked like he'd been electrocuted recently and was unlike any Matemaker he'd ever read about in a fairytale. They were always old women, hag-like or grandmotherly depending on the role they had to play in the story. "So, kid, what brings you here today."

 

"It's my eighteenth birthday. Why do you think I'm here?"

 

"I haven't the faintest idea. You'll have to spell it out for me. This is my last appointment. I haven't got all day."

 

"I want to know if I have a werewolf mate."

 

The Matemaker faked a laugh. That's hilarious. Anything else?"

 

This was not going at all the way he expected. "So you're saying I don't have mate?"

 

"I'm saying you already know who your mate is."

 

Wait. What? "Who?" But the Matemaker was right. There was only one unmated werewolf over the age of eighteen he knew--

 

"Derek Hale," said the Matemaker. "I've seen you two around. Looked like everything was going okay. And you know if it isn't, you can't sue. What I say is what you get."

 

Derek Hale. What the hell? Stiles couldn't even form an opinion on mating with Derek; he was too unbelievably pissed off at the fact that Derek had hidden it from him. "Well thanks for that," said Stiles standing up. "You've been extremely helpful."

 

"Damned kids wasting my time," the Matemaker muttered to himself as Stiles left the room.

 

Scott met Stiles outside with a smile on his face. "How'd it go?"

 

"Derek Hale."

 

"Derek _Hale_?"

 

Stiles looked past Scott's shoulder and saw a familiar silhouette lurking at the building's entrance. " _Derek Hale_."

 

Stiles stalked toward Derek and raised his arms in exasperation. "What the hell Derek? You're my mate?"

 

Derek actually had the audacity to smile at Stiles in a way he'd never once seen before. "You're my mate." His eyes were soft and Stiles wanted to claw them out of his face.

 

It wasn't a rule or anything, of course. If you were the older member of a pair you didn't have to inform the younger when you found out. But it was considered polite. Especially if you were kind of, sort of friends with the guy. And okay, Stiles would have been twelve when Derek found out. He couldn't have been told back then. But two years ago, after his sister had died, Derek had waltzed into Stiles' life all scowly and demanding as though he'd always been there. He should have let Stiles know back then. He shouldn't have let them become almost-friends under false pretences.

 

But it was Derek, and like it or not, Stiles knew him now. He was never polite and and when they'd met, his sister had just died. He hadn't wanted to be close to Stiles in the beginning, and Stiles understood.

 

And the dude was holding a bouquet of Stiles' favourite liquorice. So Stiles had to forgive him. Y'know, _eventually_.

 

Stiles took the handful of candy and extracted a stick quickly, biting off the end and talking while he chewed. "I'm mad at you," he said, pointing the rest of the stick at Derek. Derek pouted. That was new expression number two. _Who was this guy?_ "But," Stiles swallowed, "I'm going to give you a chance to explain yourself. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to let me drive the Camaro home and then you're going to tell me exactly what you were thinking. And then I'll decide how long you're going to be in the doghouse. And how many dog jokes I'm going to make just 'cause I can."

 

Derek nodded, though he was looking decidedly more unhappy with the circumstances than a moment ago. Good.

 

"What about me?" asked Scott. "You drove me here."

 

Honestly, Stiles had forgotten his friend was there. It wasn't the first time Stiles had forgotten about Scott when Derek was right there. It was the first time Stiles realised there might be a reason for that. Stiles drew his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Scott.

 

* * *

 

Stiles took a second to appreciate the way the driver's seat of the Camaro cradled his ass before starting her up. It took him another second to remember that he'd given Scott his keys so he couldn't drive home. It was probably better to take the argument to Derek's anyway. He wouldn't want his dad walking in on it.

 

"Wait," said Derek when Stiles made the first obvious turn toward his loft. "We can't go back to my place."

 

"Well unless you want to go back to having this conversation in the street, there's nowhere else to go."

 

Derek winced, then went back to sitting passively in his seat. This new Derek was throwing Stiles off, leaving him unsure how to react. But at least the blank face he was wearing now was familiar. Stiles could deal with that.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles stepped into Derek's apartment, he saw immediately why Derek had been reluctant to take this conversation to his place. In the centre of the room, between the kitchen and the living space, there was a table dressed for two. Matching plates and cutlery were set up opposite each other. A candelabra separated the two places, with new candles waiting to be lit by the matches sitting beside the brass base. Stiles could see a new sound system pressed against the wall behind the couch and every romantic dinner cliche in between. The tang of air freshener was strong in the air, trying to disguise the faint scent of charcoal. Derek had managed to burn something earlier. It was hard to stay mad at Derek in the face of all this preparation, but Derek's complete inability to comprehend the situation kept up the momentum of Stiles' ire.

 

"What the hell is this? Did you really think that after I found out I'd just roll over for you? You've been lying to me the entire time we've known each other." Stiles crossed his arms and waited for an explanation.

 

"Do you think this has been _fun_ for me?" Derek was finally getting angry, looming over Stiles. "Just all a big joke? I wanted you and I couldn't have you. Do you know how hard that has been for me?" Stiles' brain was finally catching up, too. Derek Hale was his mate. They were going to be matebonded for the rest of their lives. That didn't mean happily ever after, but it did mean that if they couldn't get past this first hurdle, it was only going to lead to a lifetime of misery. That wasn't what Stiles wanted. Even if Derek had never allowed Stiles to imagine it happening with Derek.

 

Stiles let out a deep breath. "I don't want to be angry with you. But if this matebond is going to go anywhere, I need to know why you kept it from me. Was I really such a horrible option that you wanted to delay me finding out until the last possible minute?" The words hurt Stiles to say, even when he knew that couldn't be the real reason. Derek would have been long gone if that was the case, but Stiles couldn't think of a single other reason for Derek to keep this from him for so long.

 

"No, Stiles. Of course not." Derek made a move to step closer to Stiles, but he stopped himself. "You're my mate. The only mate I ever wanted."

 

"You're going to have to give me a better reason than that. I might have been waiting my whole life for this, but I know better than to think this is going to be some kind of magically perfect relationship."

 

"I was raised on that fairytale," said Derek. "I don't know how many times I begged my mother to tell me a mating story before I could fall asleep. My favourite story was my parents'." Derek paused and sat down on the couch, gesturing for Stiles to do the same. Stiles sat, making sure to keep a platonic distance between them. Stiles didn't understand where Derek was going with the story, but he understood the significance of Derek talking about his parents. Stiles never talked about his mother either.

 

"My mom and dad were high school sweethearts. They met in freshman year and fell in love at first sight. It was exactly like all the other stories. My uncle Peter always tried to tell them that there was no way they would ever be mates, but my mom refused to believe him and when she visited the Matemaker, all her dreams came true."

 

Stiles couldn't contain himself. "That's really great for your parents, but what does that have to do with you and me?"

 

"I'd get there if you'd stop interrupting," Derek growled.

 

Stiles mimed zipping his lips, locking them and throwing away the key.

 

Derek's nostrils flared. "When I was a kid, I expected that I would have the same thing happen to me. In freshman year, I met a girl and I fell in love. I thought that was it. My fairytale mating."

 

Stiles found his gut clenching at the thought of Derek being in love with someone even before he'd found out about Stiles.

 

"There were other packs in town at the time and human-werewolf relations were shakier than they are now-- since your dad became the sheriff." Derek closed his eyes and Stiles fought the urge to scoot closer. "She died."

 

The picture was starting to become clearer to Stiles. Derek had lost the first person he'd thought was his mate. Derek would do his best to make sure that wouldn't happen to him again.

 

"I had barely gotten used to the idea that she was gone forever when I met Kate."

 

" _Argent_?" Stiles couldn't help breaking his vow of silence. Allison's aunt was the worst kind of human-- the kind who didn't think werewolves were people. She'd murdered most of Derek's family and indirectly caused the death of the rest.

 

Derek's face closed off and Stiles wanted to smooth out the tension in his lips with his own.

 

"She told me she was my mate."

 

Stiles' hands curled into tight fists involuntarily. If the bitch wasn't already dead, Stiles would be plotting a slow and painful death. As it was, he wondered if Peter would teach him how to resurrect her so they could kill her again.

 

Derek's next words came out in a rush, as though he couldn't wait to purge them. "It was exactly what I needed to get over Paige. She had me so wrapped up I didn't think-- and I didn't want to. I let her murder my family."

 

Stiles had always known that Derek carried the blame for their death on his shoulders; he'd just never known how Derek thought he could have prevented it. Stiles had chalked it up to survivor's guilt.

 

"None of that was your fault."

 

"I don't need your pity, Stiles. I know what I did."

 

"That doesn't make Kate any less responsible. You never wanted to hurt them."

 

Derek dug his hands into his hair, screwing up his face to prevent himself from crying. Stiles wanted to make him let go, but neither of them were ready for that yet.

 

Stiles went back to the original topic. "So this candlelight dinner was what?"

 

Derek laughed at himself, an ugly thing that twisted his features more than his beta form did. "I wanted everything to be perfect for you."

 

In that moment, Stiles saw Derek. The boy who wanted the fairytale ending. Who thought he'd had it, then lost it in worse and worse ways. He saw a Derek who saw Stiles in return. Saw that Stiles wanted the same thing. Derek wasn't the face he'd presented. He was a man who'd been holding himself back, afraid to destroy everything and managing to screw it all up anyway.

 

"This is like the worst, longest planned surprise party ever. You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me, you know? I would have been happy if you'd just told me."

 

Derek rolled his eyes. "Do you remember what you were like when we first met? You wouldn't have believed me."

 

Stiles wanted to deny it, but he knew it was true. If Derek had walked up to him and told him that they'd be matebonded, they might never have come close to being friends. "And later?"

 

"I knew you. You'd built up this day in your mind; the only thing I could think to do was go along with it."

 

"So this was the longest planned surprise party in the history of the universe! You know, it might have gone better if I'd had a clue you liked me at all."

 

"How could you not know? Stiles, we spend every minute together! You're the only one I ever want to be around."

 

In hindsight, Stiles could see it. But he'd been too busy waiting for this day to look around. Suddenly everything his dad said about not putting so much stock in a mating made sense. He'd thought his dad was just trying to keep him from getting his hopes up because not everyone ended up bonded. In reality he hadn't wanted Stiles to miss out on what was right in front of his nose.

 

"If I had ever thought that you would have been happier hearing it from me I would have told you. But you never seemed unsure about what you wanted."

 

"I was sure." Stiles had never admitted this to anyone before. "It was one of the last things my mom said to me before she died-- she was a Matemaker, you know?-- I was so angry with her that day. I couldn't understand why she wasn't more upset about the fact that she was dying. She told me that she knew I would have someone who would love me as much as she did. And that even though it broke her heart to leave Dad behind, she knew that he could be happy as long as I was." Stiles looked up and locked eyes with Derek. "We could all be happy."

 

Derek reached out and Stiles met him halfway, tangling their fingers together and leaning in. Stiles couldn't remember what he'd been so angry about earlier. He had Derek. That was more than he'd ever hoped for.

 

The kiss was everything and nothing like what he'd expected. Stiles had imagined his mind being blown and suddenly having his worldview rearranged. He hadn't anticipated that it would feel like this. There was warmth and pressure. Slick and suction. But overall it was an intense explosion of Derek-Derek-Derek that flooded Stiles' senses.

 

Derek kissed back as though Stiles was the end of everything. The last thing he'd ever know on this earth. He opened himself up and let Stiles take, losing layers as they came together.

 

When they finally broke the kiss, it was with the rest of them fused together. Stiles could almost feel the matebond falling into place between them, flowing between their tangled fingers.

 

"What's the time?" Stiles asked, wondering how many eternities had passed while they'd been locked together, absorbed in one another. Before Derek could answer, Stiles' brain came back online. "Crap! I should have been home for dinner hours ago." Stiles leaped up, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head.

 

"Stiles," said Derek before Stiles leaned down to give him a goodbye kiss. "Stiles," Derek repeated when Stiles tried to move away. "He knows you're here."

 

"He knows? My dad knows? Since when?"

 

"Since I called him this morning."

 

"That's not what I meant-- wait-- since when do you have my dad's number?"

 

"I don't know Stiles; I've had it for years."

 

"But we've only known each other two years. Not even that."

 

"I think your mom must have told him about me because he knew from the first time we met."

 

"When he arrested you?"

 

"Well he didn't mention anything until he was letting me go. Told me to look out for you."

 

"He knew!" Stiles grumbled. "Worst surprise party ever."

 

Derek frowned. "Does that mean you don't want cake?"

 

"There's cake? Gimme!"

 

"Not until after dinner."

 

Stiles pouted. He didn't want to offend Derek, but whatever he'd cooked for dinner couldn't possibly be any good. He'd burnt it. Or perhaps he'd burned dessert. Suddenly Stiles was ravenous, imagining what Derek might have cooked up for him. Stiles was never shy about talking so Derek had known all of his favourite foods the first time they shared a meal together. And if dessert was burned, well, Stiles could think of a few ways for Derek to make it up to him. He tugged Derek up. "C'mon, I'm hungry."

 

Derek grunted. "What am I? Your slave?"

 

"Don't give me any ideas, big guy." Stiles leered.

 

Derek led the way into the kitchen, with Stiles bouncing like a puppy learning how to use a leash. Derek turned on the oven to heat up the roasted vegetables he'd par-cooked in advance. He removed steaks from their wrapping.

 

"Can I help?"

 

Derek uncovered a pot on the stove and turned it on low. "Stir," he directed.

 

Stiles did as he was told and chattered about an episode of Kitchen Nightmares he'd seen where one guy actually set his soup on fire. Derek grumbled to himself as he set the steaks to fry in a grill pan. Stiles wondered if that was what he'd set on fire earlier.

 

"Not that there's anything wrong with setting things on fire if that's what you meant to do. Like flambé." Derek was still frowning at the pan. Oh shit what if he was thinking about the fire that Kate Argent had deliberately set? Stiles really needed to learn to be more smooth. Why was he so nervous?

 

Derek's steak came off the pan almost as soon as it went on, but the one intended for Stiles needed a little longer. The sauce was hot enough now that Stiles could smell it. He almost drooled into the pot. "Dude, what is this, because it smells orgasmic. Not that I think this is what an orgasm smells like because I have had many of those in my life and they've smelt nothing like this. But seriously, this looks so much like jizz. How did you manage that? Like porn companies should buy this recipe off you because I have never wanted to lick up my come as badly as I want to stick my tongue in here even though it's boiling so I'd burn off half my tastebuds and not be able to taste anything at all and that could only be good for everyone involved in the entire industry--"

 

Stiles broke off when he heard a very canine sounding whine. "Stiles," Derek got out through gritted teeth. "Turn that off. Sit down and shut up." Derek pointed and Stiles went. He honestly hadn't been trying to get Derek all worked up, but he couldn't say he regretted it. If only Derek would give up on dinner and just go with it. But then he wouldn't be able to have any of that sauce. Wait, of course he could. He'd just have to bring the sauce with him. Stiles would be so down for that. And that was why Stiles was that planner. His plans were awesome.

 

Derek set a plate of steak and vegetables slathered in sauce in front of Stiles. Stiles barely waited for Derek to sit down with his own plate before sticking his finger into the sauce and tasting it. "Mmm, yeah… So much better than I imagined it."

 

Derek seemed to be eating particularly noisily, as though he was trying to block out Stiles' noises by clattering his cutlery and chewing with his mouth open.

 

Stiles dug into his dinner with gusto, barely stopping to chew between shovelling mouthfuls. The meat was beautifully tender. The vegetables were just the right texture and the sauce, well, Stiles could exist on that sauce forever. It was a kind of a white gravy, and tasted better than orgasms. Stiles couldn’t wait to taste it with Derek's orgasms. He was sure the flavours would be complementary. But there was one other food that Stiles was certain would not have gone amiss when lathered with the sauce.

 

"This would be the perfect meal," he said, "if only there were curly fries."

 

Derek ceased making noise and Stiles looked up to see the tips of his ears pinking. Stiles thought he’d finally solved the mystery of what Derek had burnt.

 

Stiles grinned, unable to help himself any longer. He got up from his seat and wandered over to Derek, squeezing onto Derek's lap. "Aww, babe, did you try to make curly fries for me?"

 

Derek didn't answer; instead he stared down as though fascinated by the sight of his hands clutching Stiles' thighs.

 

Stiles cupped Derek's face with both hands and tipped his chin up to stare into his eyes for a moment before kissing him soundly. "You are the most perfect mate ever."

 

Derek's blush began to spread across his face, closely followed by a smile, and Stiles wanted to watch it forever, but instead Derek distracted him by kissing him again. Stiles didn't mind, and enthusiastically responded.

 

Derek's hands slid up the skin on Stiles' back beneath his shirt. Stiles clutched Derek's shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscles as they moved beneath his thin shirt.

 

"Derek." Stiles' voice was reduced to a whisper as the haze of lust consumed him. "We need--" Stiles broke off as Derek began sucking on his neck. "Bed."

 

Derek whined as Stiles got up off his lap. He latched on and followed as Stiles made his way to Derek's bedroom.

 

Stiles saw clean sheets on the bed. Pristine. In need of a bit of messing up.

 

"Wait!" Stiles shouted, leaving Derek floundering by the door as he ran into the kitchen. Stiles grabbed the saucepan, almost spilling the last of the sauce on his way back to Derek.

 

To a Derek who was making himself very comfortable on his bed. He was down to his boxer briefs, lying back on his pillows with his legs spread.

 

Stiles' jaw dropped and he barely set the pot on the floor before pouncing on Derek. He peppered his perfect chest with kisses.

 

"Stiles," Derek groaned. His hands grasped futilely at Stiles' hoodie. "Get this off."

 

"Get you off? I'd be happy to." Stiles groped the front of Derek's underwear, squeezing his crotch through the fabric. Derek's length was warm and firm beneath Stiles' hand. His mouth watered. Without warning, Stiles mouthed at the fabric, warming it where it was already damp with pre-come.

 

Derek moaned, pressing his head back into his pillows and trying to thrust up into Stiles' warm mouth.

 

It wasn't enough. Stiles quickly pulled down the elastic of Derek's underpants, dragging them down the length of his legs. And Derek was finally naked before him.

 

Stiles had fantasised about this, he could admit. Derek was an attractive man, and mate or no mate, Stiles had a healthy libido. But Stiles had never thought that it would become reality. Never thought to wonder if reality could compare with the fantasy. Now, Stiles knew that the fantasy could go screw itself because reality was so much, much more.

 

Derek tired of Stiles running the show and he pulled him up, helpless to resist engaging Stiles' lips in a kiss before pulling Stiles' hoodie and t-shirt up in one swift movement. Stiles was momentarily bewildered by that turn of events, and he sat, dumbfounded, before realising that Derek was trying to remove his pants. Stiles helped the process by shucking his shoes and socks, thanking god he'd worn loose sneakers today.

 

Then it was Stiles' turn to be devoured by Derek. Almost literally as his dick was quickly sucked into the cavern of Derek's mouth. "You--" Stiles was almost speechless in ecstasy, hurtling closer and closer to ecstasy. Soaring higher with each flick of Derek's tongue, each rumble of his voicebox, each gentle caress of lips. This was Stiles' first ever blowjob and he was so, so glad he'd waited for his mate. Nothing could possibly have compared to Derek.

 

And then Derek pulled off.

 

"Wait-- What? No! Come back!" Stiles reached for Derek, intent on pulling him back to finish the job, but Derek had scooted back toward the nightstand where lube and condoms were waiting.

 

"I want you, Stiles."

 

"Yeah, yeah. Me too." Stiles was beyond comprehending euphemisms. Derek was going to have to use his words if he wanted anything coherent from Stiles.

 

"Stiles!" Derek flicked a condom at Stiles' forehead.

 

Stiles blinked and rubbed at the spot he'd hit, so far gone.

 

Derek got right up into Stiles' face, just letting their breaths intermingle for a moment before moving forward and biting down on Stiles' earlobe. Hard.

 

"Owie," Stiles complained, reaching up to soothe the sting. His fingers didn't come away bloody, so he guessed it was fine.

 

"Are you with me now?" Derek asked.

 

Stiles gazed into his mate's eyes, noting his pupils had dilated so far that only one concentric circle of colour was left. Stiles nodded. "You didn't have to bite me."

 

Derek smirked. "It got your attention."

 

"Uh-huh. Now what are you going to do with it?"

 

"Put this on," Derek said, retrieving the condom and pressing it into Stiles' hand.

 

Stiles blinked at the packaging for a moment. He hadn't exactly brought a ruler, but he was pretty sure there was enough of a difference between him and Derek that they'd be different condom sizes. This one was not made for Derek. "On _my_ dick?"

 

"Yes," said Derek, rolling his eyes.

 

"Wait-- how do you know what size condoms I need?"

 

Derek blushed and tilted his head away, burying himself in Stiles' neck.

 

"You totally snooped through my things," Stiles said. It had to be a sign of a true matebond that he thought it was adorable and not creepy. "This really is the longest prepared surprise party ever."

 

"I'll do it myself," Derek snapped, grabbing the condom and rolling it onto Stiles' cock with no fuss.

 

"Mmm," Stiles moaned at the feel of Derek's fingers even through the latex.

 

Derek turned onto his hands and knees and presented himself for Stiles' perusal. Stiles greedily ran his hands over the flesh of Derek's perfect ass. He bit him once where the crease meets the thigh and Derek spasmed. "Come on Stiles. I'm ready. Just do it."

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where's the romance?"

 

"Outside with the candlesticks. I need you in me now."

 

Stiles trailed an experimental finger along Derek's ass crack. He was surprised when it slid easily into Derek's hole. "You really meant it when you said you were ready. You prepared yourself for me." Stiles was in awe, imagining what Derek must have done on this bed hours earlier. Maybe that was why he'd had to change the sheets. "Did you get yourself off thinking about me? With your fingers in your ass and your dick in your other hand?"

 

"No," grunted Derek. "I waited for you."

 

But there must have been other times, other days, Stiles realised. Derek had liked Stiles for as long as he'd known him. He had to have or Derek would have left Beacon Hills. There hadn't been anything left for him after Laura died and he killed Peter. Nothing but Stiles. How had he not noticed before?

 

Derek had prepared himself hours in advance. So his hole was beginning to tighten up and the lube had evaporated a little. Stiles didn't want to ruin their first time together. He wanted Derek to be more prepared because Stiles certainly wasn't prepared on his end. Stiles teased Derek's rim with a finger, gently circling, then pressing in.

 

"Stiles, no-- I don't need that-- I want to feel you."

 

"Well, I don't want to hurt you."

 

"Werewolf, remember?"

 

"Last I checked, that didn't mean you couldn't feel pain."

 

Derek wiggled his ass, trying to get Stiles to just go for it. It was too bad he'd ceded control to Stiles for the time being. And Stiles knew just what to do.

 

Stiles backed away from Derek, but didn't take his eyes off the pretty picture his mate was making. Stiles blindly reached down for his almost forgotten saucepan and scooped a little out with his fingers as though it was lube. Stiles dribbled it down Derek's crack, admiring the way it mimicked the come he would see if Stiles was to take Derek bareback. Stiles went straight for it with his tongue.

 

"What the hell is that?" Derek asked. But Stiles could tell he wasn't really interested in the answer by the way he moaned next.

 

Stiles licked around Derek's sphincter and darted his tongue in and out at his leisure, savouring the little noises his mate made and the uncontrollable little jerks of his hips. It all added up to Stiles being the most turned on he'd ever been in his life.

 

Derek had stopped making distinguishable noises. Everything that came out of his mouth would be best represented by a keysmash. "Oahwie. Lmre!"

 

But soon even Stiles had had enough. He was ready to take Derek.

 

Stiles shifted up onto his knees and Derek noticed, letting out the most pornographic sound Stiles had ever heard-- porn included. Stiles lined himself up with Derek's entrance and paused, suddenly nervous. What if he screwed everything up? What if he came too soon and left Derek unsatisfied? Derek had been building up this moment for years. That was a lot of pressure to put on a guy for his first time.

 

Derek must have been reading Stiles' mind or else Stiles had been speaking aloud because he gathered Stiles up in an embrace and rubbed his stubbled cheek against Stiles'.

 

"There is absolutely no way you can screw this up. I know because I've spent so much time imagining it. You could never disappoint me."

 

Stiles kissed Derek long and deep before Derek reversed their previous positions, lying Stiles down on his back and straddling him. They looked into each other's eyes as Derek sank down onto Stiles' cock.

 

"Oh my god what is this feeling?" Stiles wondered aloud. He'd always wondered if sex would be able to shut him up. He guessed not.

 

And then Derek started to move.

 

"No, seriously, Derek, I think I'm orgasming but my dick is still hard."

 

"Good," Derek grunted, picking up the pace. "Good."

 

"Is that a thing? Is that a real thing?"

 

"Stiles." Derek paused in his movements with Stiles almost all the way out. "Shut up."

 

"I can't just stop talking. It's involuntary. I need something else to focus on."

 

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and wrapped it around his cock.

 

"Ooh," Stiles said, fingers curling and sliding along its length. "That's nice."

 

"Next time," said Derek, "I'm going to fuck your mouth."

 

"Next time," said Stiles. "I like the sound of that."

 

And that was it for Stiles. The mere thought of having sex again was enough to set him off, his release torn from him by the clench of Derek's muscles.

 

Derek sat with Stiles still warm within him, using both their hands to bring himself off. "Mmm..." Derek's release made a mess of both their hands and their stomachs.

 

Stiles was muzzy with pleasure as Derek settled beside him. They cuddled facing each other. Stiles smiled as he drifted off into sleep.

Matebonding was _the shit_.

**Author's Note:**

> I make no apologies for making Finstock the Matemaker.
> 
> My headcanon says that Stiles' name is something like Grzegorz, which, while difficult to sound out for native English speakers, is a pretty normal name in Poland, and easily convertible to an Anglicised nickname (e.g. Greg), but Stiles is so not a Greg, so he's Stiles.
> 
> And because everyone else does it: here is [my Teen Wolf tumblr](http://felloffabalcony.tumblr.com) (which is all reblogs from queue) and [my fanart tumblr](http://missygeek.tumblr.com) (which at least has original content).


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